Telling Lucas the Truth[]
That evening, Lucas found the photograph on the kitchen table.
“That’s him, isn’t it?”
My first instinct was to reach for it.
Instead, I turned off the faucet, dried my hands, and sat down across from him.
“Yes, my boy.”
“Did he know about me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why wasn’t he here?”
I chose my words carefully.
“He was scared when he was young. He listened to his parents instead of making his own choice.”
Lucas waited.
“But later, he had choices of his own,” I continued.
“And he still stayed away.”
“Did Mom want him to stay?”
“She wanted him to choose you for himself.”
“Did he?”
I forced myself not to soften the answer.
“Not when he should have.”
Lucas looked at the photograph.
“Do you hate him?”
“I did before I knew who he was.”
“And now?”
I thought about it.
“I understand him better now.”
I paused.
“That isn’t the same as forgiving him.”
Lucas nodded slowly.
“Do I have to meet him?”
“No.”
He looked down.
“But can I?”
Every frightened part of me wanted to say no.
For ten years, Lucas and I had been enough.
What if letting this man into our lives changed everything?
Then I remembered Teagan’s words.
“You never asked why I was scared.”
I wasn’t going to make Lucas carry my fears.
“Yes,” I said.
“You can.”
The Baseball Field
Lucas chose where they would meet.
A public baseball field.
When we arrived, his father was already waiting.
He held an old leather glove.
Lucas stopped.
“That’s the one from the picture.”
The man looked down at it.
“Yeah.”
“You kept it all this time?”
“I kept more things than I had a right to.”
Lucas studied him.
“I’m Lucas.”
The man nodded.
“I know.”
Lucas pointed toward the field.
“Are you any good?”
A small smile appeared on the man’s face.
“Not really.”
Lucas laughed.
“You had a glove.”
“Having one and being good are two different things.”
They began throwing the ball.
It was awkward at first.
One throw sailed too high.
Lucas missed it and kicked at the dirt.
“Sorry,” the man said. “That one was mine.”
“I should’ve caught it.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I threw it badly.”
I stood several yards away.
After a while, Lucas asked him something I couldn’t hear.
The man crouched down beside him.
My body moved before I could think.
One step forward.
Then I stopped.
This was Lucas’s moment.
Not mine.
I stayed where I was.
Trust Takes Time
He didn’t suddenly become part of our lives because of one afternoon.
The first week, he called once.
The next week, twice.
He never appeared without asking.
He never tried to force Lucas to call him “Dad.”
And when Lucas didn’t want to talk one evening, he accepted it.
I watched all of it.
Not because I trusted him completely.
I didn’t.
Trust wasn’t something I planned to hand over simply because he had finally decided to show up.
He was going to have to build it.
So was I.
